


A Good Night

by allthings



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Assertive Hank, Fluff and Smut, Foot Jobs, M/M, Post-Pacifist Ending, Unsure Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15071936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthings/pseuds/allthings
Summary: Hank and Connor spend a night in on the couch, and Hank ends up teaching Connor a little more about the human experience.





	A Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how the heck to write Android characters, but this ship has taken over my life and I couldn't not write something. Enjoy? :)
> 
> If you want to follow me on Twitter, I'm @theirloveisso

In the initial confusion no one knew quite what to do with him, which was, he supposed, how he ended up staying on Hank’s couch. Hank’s story was that, since he had originally been assigned as his partner, responsibility for his well-being had fallen to him for the time being, but Connor had overheard a phone call where Hank snarled that Connor was going back to Cyberlife “over his dead body”, so he wasn’t sure there had been much twisting of arms involved, or at least not of Hank’s arms.

He felt...grateful. It’s not like he had any biological needs, so it didn’t really matter where he stayed, but being with Hank was...familiar. He knew the layout of the house without having to scan it, knew that Sumo would be at his feet the second he sat down on the couch, knew where Hank kept the bourbon and how many shots indicated a good day and how many a bad. He’d been having more good days lately. Sometimes, on those good nights, Hank, languid and pliable with liquor, would lie back on his side of the couch (they each had their own sides now) and stretch his legs out, resting them casually across Connor’s lap. Connor would feel the weight and the heat of them across his own plastic thighs and stay very still, unsure what to do and not wanting to spoil the moment. Something close to intuition, but really the result of masses of background analysis and calculations, told him that Hank was waiting for something, almost testing him. But, despite his advanced programming, he still couldn’t work out what it was. Humans were still a mystery to him in many ways.

Tonight was a good night, or so Connor had thought until Hank heaved himself off the couch to grab a a fourth shot of bourbon. This time he returned with the whole bottle, setting it down on the floor before plopping back into his previous position, swinging his legs back across Connor’s. They were watching a basketball match, something Connor had come to find he enjoyed. His analytical skills allowed him to predict plays and scores with a high degree of accuracy, yet unexpected occurrences could still surprise him and throw all his calculations off; a misdirected pass, an unexpected injury, a mistimed leap. Plus it was something he could share with Hank, and he even found himself cheering on the Gears too, albeit with not quite the same amount of gusto or expletives. 

Oftentimes, during the downtime, they would talk, but Hank had been oddly quiet so far tonight. That was until he downed his fourth shot and, still staring at the TV screen, came out with a question.

“Say, Connor, you ever had sex?”

His hand, which had been rhythmically patting Sumo’s head where he sat as his feet, froze in the dog’s shaggy mane. It was a simple enough question, but for some reason he hesitated to answer. 

“What, you’re the only one who gets to ask intrusive personal questions?” Hank smirked at him.

“No, I have not experienced sexual intercourse.”

“Figured as much. You give off the virgin vibe.”

There was a long silence. Connor had surmised the conversation was over, until…

“So do you even, like, have a cock, or what?”

Another easily-answerable question that gave him pause. He removed his hand from Sumo’s fur and rested it on the armrest in a way he was sure came off as awkward and unnatural.

“While I was designed for investigative purposes, as Cyberlife’s most advanced model to date, I am fitted with all the appropriate parts to authentically replicate the body of a human male.”

“That a yes?”

“Yes, I have a penis. Aren’t these kind of questions considered inappropriate?”

“Since when have I been appropriate?” Hank snorted, and pulled his left leg up so his foot was resting against Connor’s thigh. His toes curled, pressing into Connor in a way he found impossible to ignore. “So if someone were to, say, do this,” Hank’s voice was a syrupy drawl as he moved his foot so the side was brushing against his crotch, “would that, you know...affect you?” the detective moved his foot again, and all Connor’s pleasure sensors down there tingled.

Of course, as an Android, there was no such thing as an unwanted physical reaction. He was programmed to react, physically, in a way that mirrored the average human, but at the same time, it was easy enough for him to control his body with his mind in a way that humans couldn’t. If he didn’t want to be affected, he didn’t have to be - or at least, he didn’t have to show it. But that insistent, background intuition was rearing its head again and telling him to _just go with it_.

He kept his voice steady. “I’m not sure yet, Lieutenant. You will have to continue your investigation.” Hank’s eyes widened briefly for a split second, before the smirk was back.

“Whatever you say, Connor.”

He moved his foot again, rubbing gently against the front of Connor’s sweatpants (Hank had forbidden him from wearing his suit at home, said it made him feel like he was still at work). It was a light, tantalizing touch, barely getting through the fabric, but somehow the frustrating lack of friction itself was a turn-on. He allowed his parts to react to the pleasure, both physical and mental, and immediately felt his cock stir and start to harden. Clearly Hank could feel it too, as he started to apply more pressure to his movements.

Connor was unsure what to do with himself. Hank was always complaining that he sat “like a fuckin’ statue” even when they weren’t engaging in...whatever this was… so he was certain that he wouldn’t take too kindly to him sitting rigid with his eyes locked straight ahead now of all times (Hank also had an issue with staring). So, he tipped his head back against the headrest of the couch and closed his eyes, concentrating on the pleasurable feeling in his groin and allowing his body to shift naturally, leaning into the touch. The rubbing of Hank’s foot continued, slow and methodical, building an aching feeling that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with, but that he knew that he wanted to savor. It was so good, better than he’d been prepared for, until- 

The motion stopped. Confused, he opened his eyes and tipped his head to the side to look at Hank.

“Why did you stop?” A note of petulance crept into his tone.

“Because I can’t tell if you even fuckin’ like it or not! Jeez, throw a guy a bone, could you?”

About ten jokes involving the fact that he was already giving him a “bone” flashed through his mind before he settled on a serious answer. “I am enjoying it, Hank. Very much.”

“Then show me.” Hank’s words were a command, and Connor was only too eager to obey.

He could do this. His programming already knew how humans reacted to sexual stimulation. It was just a matter of letting his guards down, of filtering out the constant strings of information running through his mind and letting the “instinct” take over. He closed his eyes again and let his lips part slightly, allowing a breathy noise to escape as Hank’s foot resumed its motions. Seemingly satisfied, Hank rewarded him by upping the pace, and for a while the small apartment was filled with the soft sounds of rustling fabric and the whispers of Connor’s gasps.

Then Hank twisted his foot so that the sole was pressed directly against the length of Connor’s erect cock, and he was gone. His eyes flew open and he moaned, low and loud. 

“You like that, huh?” Hank’s voice was gravelly and thick with a heady mix of booze and desire. Connor nodded. “I said, do you like that?” His tone was harder this time.

“Yes, Hank. Yes, I like it.”

“You want me to keep going?”

“Yes. Please.”

Hank obliged by curling his toes around the head of his dick, probing the sensitive line of the glans. Connor moaned again and his hips bucked of their own accord. He heard Hank growl, “yeah, that’s right”, as he continued rocking in time with Hank’s rubbing, seeking that elusive something that was hovering just out of reach. The sounds escaping his lips were desperate now, like the mewl of an animal begging for a treat, and his fingers dug into the soft fabric of the armrest. He just needed a little bit more-

Then Hank was suddenly lunging up and forward with a speed he hadn’t expected from a man his age, and the excruciatingly frustrating friction of his foot was replaced by the firm, tight grip of his hand, while his lips captured Connors, beard scratching against his face as his warm tongue forced its way into his mouth. One pump was all it took before Connor was flying over the edge, pulling back from the kiss and shouting Hank’s name as he came, blue liquid spurting and staining the crotch of his sweats.

As the hum of residual pleasure from his orgasm faded, he noticed Hank looking at him strangely. “What?” he enquired.

“So you cum blue, huh.” It was clearly a statement rather than a question, given the obvious evidence, but Connor felt obliged to respond.

“Yes, that is the default, although there are other colors and flavors availa-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, flavors? Don’t you go getting ahead of yourself there, lover boy.”

There was a long silence as Connor sat motionless, staring at the still-ongoing basketball match (Gears in the lead, but only barely), Hank’s arm still slung around his shoulders, wondering if he’d overstepped, if he’d gone too far, and damn it, humans were so complicated-

“...So what flavors they got, anyway? ‘Cause if there’s bourbon, I’m in. Just sayin’.”

Connor didn’t know if he could have stopped the grin from spreading across his face even if he’d wanted to. Tonight was definitely a good night.


End file.
